


Scars

by MisanthropyMuse



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo, les mis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Biting, Enjolras is too bossy to be passive, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Smut, Very tiny bits of angst because Grantaire's a cutiepie, sassytop!Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:59:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisanthropyMuse/pseuds/MisanthropyMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the restroom of the Musain Café, Enjolras tries to calm down after an argument with Grantaire. Grantaire doesn't even try to help. (not that Enjolras wants him to)</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Grantaire pushed his rival against the tiled wall and took posses of his lips, grinning. Enjolras fought fiercely: he bit him, he jostled him, he punched and kneed him, he pulled his hair and tugged at his clothes. Certainly he didn't looked for his lips when they got out of his control, surely he wasn't longing for physical contact as a shipwrecked for firm land.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

Enjolras bit his lower lips for the umpteenth time trying to muffle a moan.  
Grantaire would have laughed at him, if he hadn't his mouth busy in sucking his cock.  
They had just ended a meeting, an especially inflamed one, one in which Grantaire had done his best to enrage the young revolutionary, and, as it often happened, Enjolras had taken shelter in the Musain rest room to calm himself down.  
Calm down his rage and another kind of fire.  
It was a kinda twisted thing, and it was a bit difficult to admit, but giving speeches about his ideals never failed to turn him on as almost nothing else could.  
The only thing that aroused him more than that was arguing over those ideals.  
Grantaire knew that perfectly. And, by now, he also knew what subjects to put on to fuel his friend, to make him crash against his limits, to make him curse and run to the rest room, slamming doors to show off his rage.  
He also knew how much time he had to wait before getting up and, with all the calm he had, reach him, looking forward to his sweaty curls and his tight jeans that asked with a certain urgency to be taken off.  
As always, none of them had to say anything.  
Grantaire pushed his rival against the tiled wall and took posses of his lips, grinning. Enjolras fought fiercely: he bit him, he jostled him, he punched and kneed him, he pulled his hair and tugged at his clothes. Certainly he didn't looked for his lips when they got out of his control, surely he wasn't longing for physical contact as a shipwrecked for firm land.  
"Get that fucking smile off of your face, asshole." he snarled with a very low voice, biting his ear.  
"Yes, Sir." Grantaire replied, pretending to be serious and kneeling in front of his leader.  
The first moan Enjolras tried to hold back was, as usual, when his jeans were unbuttoned and his pants lowered, freeing his erection in the moist rest room air.  
The second one when Grantaire took is in his mouth, deeply, and sucked hard.  
The others came in a quick sequence, following the lunges of Grantaire's head on his groin, the movements of his tongue across his thin skin, the accidental teeth that touched him lightly, maybe not so randomly, and made him startle.  
From the other room they heard Jehan making a smart metaphor about Enjolras' anger.  
Grantaire pulled apart from the above-mentioned angry boy and made him turn around, starting to rim him greedily, lubricating him as much as he could.  
Bossuet told Jehan that Enjolras' passion could serve him better in other activities.  
Enjolras would have laughed at their foolishness and naivety, if only he hadn't been too busy in holding back otherwise obscene moans.  
Grantaire got up, taking a moment to stretch his aching knees, and then lowered his jeans, rubbing Enjolras' dilated hole with the tip of his cock, making him startle again.  
"Hurry up." Enjolras ordered in a rough voice, panting and parting his legs.  
Grantaire plunged into him right when Musichetta suggested with a giggle an alternate activity to his talking, making everybody laugh.  
Luckily, the two boys thought, for they covered the scream Enjolras couldn't contain.  
"I said hurry up." he snarled. Grantaire smiled and obeyed.  
Enjolras kept a hand on Grantaire's thigh, digging his nails into his flesh, and the other in his own mouth, biting it not to scream.  
Grantaire was fast and strong, making his friend shiver with every push. He knew he was hurting him, but he also knew that Enjolras liked it.  
They were constantly hurting each other, in words and in deeds. Scars marked both their skins, but only Grantaire's heart. He shook his head to send away that thought, and dig his face into the curve of Enjolras' neck, biting him.  
Marius, alarmed by the silence, asked if they should go and check if the two guys had murdered each other. Combeferre calmed him, reminding him that those two were, weirdly, completely able to end their own fight in a peaceful way, on their own.  
 _Bless you, Combeferre_ , they thought, once again simultaneously, already close to their climax.  
"Come inside." Enjolras moaned. Surely he didn't want to say that in such a squeaky voice, but in that moment it was hard to have control.  
Grantaire moved along the wall until they reached a urinal. Once assured that Enjolras' cock was right above the porcelain, he grabbed it and started stroking it hard.  
The less signs they'd left, the better it would have been, and stains of seed on the floor weren't actually a secret.  
A few other minutes passed, a few other pushes and a few other moans before they both came, together, Enjolras shooting into the urinal and Grantaire inside his lover, feeling his own seed wrapping his cock, scorching against his sensible skin.  
Enjolras waited until his breath calmed down and his legs stopped shivering before pulling away and getting into a stall to clean himself up.  
Grantaire approached to a sink instead and cleaned himself with a handkerchief while smiling at himself through the mirror. Then he put his clothes back on, slowly, washed his face and hands, trying to calm down, to look like someone who just had a difficult conversation and not a quick fuck.  
"I'm leaving." he said then to Enjolras, who answered with a sigh.  
As always, none of them would have said anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> Translated from a work I made for an italian porn challenge (God bless P0rn!fest). It's beta'd, by I still apology for any mistake. I'm not that good at English yet, but I wanted to share this with the international fandom as well because I'm proud of it and idk I guess I should stop now.  
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
